12 A Stormy Day
One day late in the autumn my master had a long journey to go on business. I
was put into the dog-cart, and John went with his master. I always liked to go in
the dog-cart, it was so light and the high wheels ran along so pleasantly. There
had been a great deal of rain, and now the wind was very high and blew the dry
leaves across the road in a shower. We went along merrily till we came to the
toll-bar and the low wooden bridge. The river banks were rather high, and the
bridge, instead of rising, went across just level, so that in the middle, if the river
was full, the water would be nearly up to the woodwork and planks; but as there
were good substantial rails on each side, people did not mind it.
The man at the gate said the river was rising fast, and he feared it would be a
bad night. Many of the meadows were under water, and in one low part of the
road the water was halfway up to my knees; the bottom was good, and master
drove gently, so it was no matter.
When we got to the town of course I had a good bait, but as the master's
business engaged him a long time we did not start for home till rather late in the
afternoon. The wind was then much higher, and I heard the master say to John
that he had never been out in such a storm; and so I thought, as we went along
the skirts of a wood, where the great branches were swaying about like twigs,
and the rushing sound was terrible.
“I wish we were well out of this wood,” said my master.
“Yes, sir,” said John, “it would be rather awkward if one of these branches
came down upon us.”
The words were scarcely out of his mouth when there was a groan, and a
crack, and a splitting sound, and tearing, crashing down among the other trees
came an oak, torn up by the roots, and it fell right across the road just before us.
I will never say I was not frightened, for I was. I stopped still, and I believe I
trembled; of course I did not turn round or run away; I was not brought up to
that. John jumped out and was in a moment at my head.
“That was a very near touch,” said my master. “What's to be done now?”
“Well, sir, we can't drive over that tree, nor yet get round it; there will be
nothing for it, but to go back to the four crossways, and that will be a good six
miles before we get round to the wooden bridge again; it will make us late, but